Oh, Crap
by Jenny Max
Summary: Okay, perhaps it's not that bad... So what if Ed and Roy switched bodies? They can set things right somehow...as soon as Roy-in-Ed's-body fights through a bunch terrorists and Ed-in-Roy's-body can convince the military officials that he isn't crazy...
1. What in the name of Jeebus

A groan escaped his lips as Colonel Roy Mustang began to stir. His eyes flittered open before shutting them immediately to protect them from the bright light emitting from the window next to his bed. For some strange reason, he couldn't feel his right arm, but he shrugged it off as being a side effect of the mission he completed the day before.

While the colonel usually didn't do any work outside his office, a special case came up a few weeks before involving a terrorist group. While Roy shrugged it off as only another group of bandits just trying to get their opinion about the military across, by the time the previous weekend ended, a total of seven major train stations and nine military bases were bombed, and a few of the military squads sent out to possible terrorist hideouts were ambushed with a few of the officers taken as hostages. Finally, a few of the State Alchemists, including Roy himself and the well-acknowledged Fullmetal Alchemist Major Edward Elric, were sent to stop the terrorists and rescue the officers from their clutches. It wasn't that Edward was dragged away from whatever far-off city to do this small deed, he just happened to be in the area when the call was made and he volunteered to help out. The shorty's excuse was that the wanted to take a break from searching for the legendary Philosopher's Stone, and it was probably a good thing he took his "break," because if it weren't for him, the State Alchemists sent to break up the group would've been in a worse situation than they would've been in. Those terrorists either had expected the military and thought up of things ahead of time, or they were geniuses, because somehow, some way, the State Alchemists were split up and had gotten quite a beating, and if it weren't for Ed's quick thinking, they would've been screwed over and the terrorists would still be wreaking havoc. That and the military's reputation would worsen if at all possible.

After a few minutes, Roy's eyes adjusted to the morning sunlight filtering into the room. He sat up and jerked his head back to get some of his hair out of his face. _Dammit, I guess I need to get a haircut…_

And while he was still in his sleeping-zombie state, he examined his surroundings and realized that the room looked like some sort of hotel room, and the first thing that popped in his head was, "How did I get here?"

And that question woke him up some. How _did_ he get here? He started to think of the previous day's events, and he couldn't remember how he got into this room. He could've sworn that he had gone back to his office back in Central…or at least, that was his last thought when he had been leaving the site of the fight between terrorists and alchemists. Roy's eyebrows furrowed and, true, he couldn't remember what happened after the fight. It was him walking with his comrades…then blank.

He shook his head and rubbed his eye with his left hand. _Whatever_, he thought. _Perhaps a drink would get me thinking again…_

"Oh, hey, Brother!" Roy's head shot up, and he saw, standing at the doorway, a familiar suit of armor. Alphonse, he recalled, Edward's younger brother. Well, at least he remembered that… "It's great to see you up. Are you feeling better?"

Roy looked around, confused. He didn't see Edward in the room anywhere, so he looked back at Alphonse with a puzzled expression. "What are you talking about?" Was it just him, or did his voice sound high pitched and…not him?

"You were pretty sick last night, Brother," Alphonse explained, mistaking Roy's confusion for where Edward was with him wondering why the younger brother was happy to see him awake. "We tried feeding you, but you kept throwing up, and you finally passed out. What happened out there yesterday? Something must have happened to make you so sick." There was obvious worry in the suit of armor's words.

And now that Roy thought about it, he faintly tasted bile in his mouth. He shook his head. "That's not what I meant, Alphonse." He looked around. "Where's Edward?"

Even though Al can't make facial expressions, it was obvious that he was confused and even more worried. "What do you mean, Brother? Did you hit your head or something? I told you that you shouldn't do anything too drastic…but then again if you didn't, who knows what would've happened with you and the other State Alchemists…"

"Alphonse," Roy said, interrupting the younger boy's thoughts, "I'm not Edward. I--oof!" When he slid off the bed and tried to walk, he stumbled and fell.

"Brother! Are you okay?" Al kneeled down by his side. "You shouldn't get out of bed, you're still not well…"

"Alphonse…" Roy's sentence trailed off as he looked down at his legs. The first thing that made an alarm go off in his head was the fact that he was wearing leather pants. Why, he asked himself, would he wear leather pants? That's one of the last things he would dare put on…

The second sight caused him to start to panic. The one thing that caused him to loose his balance and fall when he tried to get out of bed…was his mechanical left leg. Thinking it was just a figment of his imagination, he reached out to touch it and maybe the hallucination would go away…

But it only got worse when he realized that his right arm was all automail. He realized that he was shirtless, and his eyes trailed up the arm to his shoulder where the arm connected to his body…and he saw the loose, shoulder-length golden hair that lay on that shoulder…

Roy let out a yell as he clambered onto his feet, only to loose his balance and fall back onto the bed.

"Brother! What's wrong?!" Al stepped forward a couple paces, which only made Roy shuffled backwards, getting his limbs tangled on the bed sheets.

Roy was able to see his (distorted) reflection on Al's breastplate, and the person looking back with all-to-familiar golden eyes was a very frightened, very bewildered Edward Elric…

"WHAT THE FU--"

-----

Ed twitched when he snapped awake from a fitful sleep. He groaned as he lifted himself up on his elbows, and he realized that he had been leaning down on a messy desk while asleep. He let out another groan as he arched his back to get any cricks out of his spine.

_Damn…that was some dream…wait…what am I doing in headquarters…?_ He looked around, and realized that the room was all too familiar…

"What the hell?! Why am I in Mustang's office?" He jumped onto his feet, only to stumble and crash onto the floor, his head smashing against the chair. He moaned and rubbed the back of his head. "What in the world…" His eyes widened when he realized he was dressed the traditional blue military uniform, and the fact that his braided ponytail was missing left him dumbfounded, but his astonishment turned into anger. "If this is that damn Colonel Bastard's idea of a joke, his jaw will be saying hello to my fist…"

He lifted himself onto his feet, only to realize that he felt…taller. No, he _was_ taller. Normally, where the top of the desk met his waist, his hips just barely reached the edge. His hands rested on the desktop, only to have him realize that they were both flesh. His right hand lacked the familiar look of metal, and by the feel of it, his left leg was flesh and bone as well. That's probably why he had lost his balance…

"Sir, is everything okay?" Ed snapped out of his thoughts and looked towards the double doors, where a familiar blonde-haired brown-eyed woman stood.

"Uh, Lieutenant…" Ed slammed his hands down on the desk. "Lieutenant!" he repeated, but this time louder. "Who am I?"

First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. "Um…Sir? Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay!" He leaned forward. "Answer the damn question! Who the hell am I?!"

"You…are Colonel Roy Mustang, sir," Riza answered hesitantly. Closing the door behind her, she briskly walked up to Ed and placed a hand on his forehead. "You shouldn't have come back to headquarters last night. You're unwell."

"I didn't come back last night!" Ed practically spat, controlling himself from hyperventilating. "I…" He froze. He didn't know what he did last night. He couldn't remember anything, actually, after late afternoon the previous day. His mind was blank, and Riza was easily able to figure this out.

"You should go home, Colonel, and get some rest," she said. "We are all worried about you, and if you have a lapse in your memory…" She shook her head. "That's definitely not a good sign." She reached a hand out to grab his sleeve, but Edward stepped back.

"No, I'm not Mustang!" He shook his head and pointed at himself. "I'm Ed!"

Hawkeye blinked a few times. "Okay, now I know there's something wrong with you, Sir. You need to see a doctor." She snatched the sleeve of his blue uniform and began to drag him towards the door, but he pulled himself away.

"No!" he yelled. "I'm fine! And I'm not Mustang!" Before Riza could say anything, Ed ran to the doors and threw them open, revealing another room that had a rectangular table in the middle with a few chairs and uniform-clad men around that table.

The four men jumped and looked at him, all with identical confused faces on. Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda peeked up from a smaller table he was hiding behind in the far corner of the room, obviously hiding from Hawkeye's dog Black Hayate, who was currently cradled in Master Sergeant Kain Fuery's arms. By the way Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc was breathing, it looked like he had recovered from a laughing fit, with his cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and Warrant Officer Vato Falman, who was holding a stack of folders, was apparently trying to stop the commotion, but lucky for him, Edward did the job for him.

Edward let in a few breaths to calm himself down before asking, "Guys, who am I?" All he got were stares. He clenched his fists before practically jogging up to the nearest person to him; Havoc. He grabbed the blond subordinate's collar and pulled him up until their noses were almost touching. "Who the hell am I?!" he practically screamed in his face. "Why am I here?! I'm not suppose to be here!"

Havoc stuttered a little before answering, "Uh, sir, you're…you're Colonel Mustang--"

"NO I'M NOT!" Edward shook him before letting him go. "I'm not Mustang! I'm Edward! ED. WARD!"

"Colonel, stop freaking out!" Falman dropped the folders and went up to him to try to hopefully calm the distressed Edward down, but it didn't work, and soon enough, Mustang's subordinates were yelling back at Ed, trying to get him back to his senses.

With Edward being Edward, and being totally creeped out and out of his mind, he kept on repeating himself, and finally he let out an ear-splitting scream and ran out of the room with his…no, Roy's hair clenched in his fists. Only when the yell disappeared down the hallway did the four men and one woman dare to move.

"Maybe…it was a bad idea to let Colonel Mustang go to that mission," Fuery said quietly, fixing his glasses with one hand while holding a barking Black Hayate with the other.

"Maybe…" Havoc bent down and picked up his fallen cigarette. "Or perhaps he threw up his brains when he was puking in the bathroom last night."

Lieutenant Hawkeye let out a sigh as she crossed the room and closed the doors to keep any bewildered military officers from peeking in and trying to find out what caused the Flame Alchemist to yell Bloody Mary with his arms flailing around above his head.

* * *

_Well, there we go. :3 Chapter one of my crackfic that popped in my head last night. I know that there are prolly enough body-switching fics out there, but I felt like getting this out of system before I forgot about it. I pretty much wrote this because it was entertaining to imagine Roy running out of the room while yelling as if the apocolypse was coming...yeah. You coud obviously tell that it was rushed towards then end._

_Make Jen happy and leave a review please. :3 I'd like to know what you guys think._


	2. Crazy? I think not

Perhaps the janitor's closet wasn't really the most logical place to hide, but it was the first place Edward thought of, and perhaps no one would find him there. An hour or so has passed since his sanity had cracked down the middle, and his heavy breathing was evidence that he was still trying to recover from the fact that, yes, he is in Roy Mustang's body and, no, he cannot remember how the hell it happened nor why.

He had long since shed the blue military coat and now sat between the brooms and the mops and the buckets with the sleeves of the white collared shirt he wore rolled up in an attempt to cool down his body. That's not the main reason, though. Edward was currently massaging his right arm, amazed and strangely thrilled at the familiar yet foreign sensations being sent up to brain telling him that the arm was for real. He leaned forward and grasped his left boot to tug it off, but changed his mind and rested against the wall once more. It would be a little awkward for him to be playing with his toes, even if he was excited that he had real blood-pulsing limbs.

He lifted his right hand once more and fingered the lines on his palm before frowning and slamming it onto the ground. "No!" he practically yelled. "What am I doing? This isn't my body, so why am I marveling over it as if it was my own?" He slammed his fist against the wall. "Dammit!" He jumped when the door opened and light from the hallway outside flooded into the small closet.

"You know, Colonel," Havoc said, his currently-unlit cigarette wiggling along with the movement of his mouth, "you shouldn't be making so much noise when you're playing a game of hide and seek." Ed slapped a hand on his forehead as Havoc turned around and yelled, "Found him!"

-----

Hawkeye crossed her legs as she flipped another page in the book she was reading. Every so often she would peek up from the sentence she was reading to check on the Colonel, and every time she would see the same thing: "Roy" sitting on the examination bed with his arms crossed and his legs swinging forward and back. His posture was slouched, and the way he had his eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip jutted out, he looked like he held Edward's familiar I-don't-wanna-be-here pout.

With a sigh, Hawkeye lowered her book and looked up at Ed. "Sir, please act more mature." Ed just "humphed!" and diverted his attention towards the wall.

It had taken a great deal of effort to get the "colonel" under control, and only after having a gun held to his head and getting a friendly threat by "his" lieutenant did Edward finally cooperate and get dragged to the military hospital for a check up. They had been sitting in that room for a good half hour before he groaned and jumped off the bed.

"That's it, I'm outta here," he grumbled, but before he could take a step, he heard a click and he was staring face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.

"Colonel. Sit." Edward nodded, his body tense, before scooting back onto the bed. Riza did a fancy spin with the gun on her finger before shoving it back into her holster and sitting down once more, opening the book to where she had marked a page with her finger.

Finally, a doctor came in with a smile on his face. Edward thought it was a creepy smile. He was an old man with a receding hairline, a walrus mustache, a pair of round glasses that magnified his brown eyes tenfold, and white hair with grey speckles.

"Good day, Mr. Mustang," the doctor said, his voice rough and sandpaper-sounding. "My name is Doctor Jazieble." He had a funny accent that involved his "R"s being flipped, and that, along with how his mustache wiggles when he talks, made Ed snort with laughter, and he received a warning glare from Riza. "So, what be the problem?"

"Colonel Mustang has a cold," Hawkeye said immediately.

"No I don't! I feel fine." Edward crossed his arms and pouted once more.

Riza pretended to not hear him and continued. "And I believe it is very bad because he has a memory problem." She closed her book shut and looked up at "Roy." "He believes that he is someone else."

Edward opened his mouth to retort, but he had a thermometer shoved in instead. "Oh, really? And who does he think he is?"

"Edward Elric." Riza ignored the glare she received.

"I _am _Edward Elric!" he exclaimed, the thermometer threatening to fall off of his lips.

"Sure you are, Colonel Roy," the doctor said as he snatched the thermometer before it had a chance to tumble to the ground. "Ah, 101 degrees Fahrenheit. He is quite sick, ya."

"I'm fine, see!" Edward jumped of the bed, but he felt dizzy from the sudden movement and he collapsed back onto the bed, his hand clutching his stomach. "Perfectly…fine…"

"Yes, yes, I see…" The doctor pulled out his clipboard and wrote something on it. "Now, take of your shirt."

Edward looked like he was really going to be sick. "What?!"

"I need to check your heart rate and breathing." The old man waved his hand. "Now come on, chop chop."

Ed looked at Riza, who gave him a warning look in return, before unbuttoning his white shirt and slipping it off. He shivered at the sudden exposure to the cold air, and he threw his arms around himself. "Can we make this quick?! I'm freezing!"

"Oy, let's not rush." The doctor pulled his stethoscope from around his neck and plugged the earpieces into his ears while placing the diaphragm onto Ed's back, who shuddered at how cold it felt. "Now, take a deep breath."

Wanting to get the appointment over with, Edward did as told, and as soon as his heartbeat was checked, the doctor let the stethoscope rest around his shoulders and jotted something down onto his clipboard. "His breathing is slightly irregular, but otherwise, his lungs and heart sound like they're in good shape." Ed opened his mouth to say something, but instead had something stuck in his mouth again, this time a tongue depressor. He nearly gagged when the wooden stick almost touched his uvula. "His throat isn't very swollen, either."

"Hee! I' hine!" Ed managed to say as the doctor continued to examine his throat.

"All seems well." He tossed the tongue depressor into the waste basket before grabbing the otoscope and preparing to check his patient's ears. "Tilt your head to the side please." Ed did so, and the tip of the medical device was poked into his ear. "So, Colonel, have you had any uncontrollable coughs?"

Ed raised an eyebrow. The doc just cleared his throat as okay, and he was asking about coughing? "No."

"Ah, I see. Any earaches?"

"Nope."

"Mmhm." Doc tilted the "colonel's" head to the other side and examined his other ear. "How about diarrhea, uncontrollable sneezing, or trouble breathing?"

"No, no, and no."

"Nausea, headaches, or moments of lightheadedness?"

Ed thought for a moment. "Yes to the headache and lightheadedness, and hell yeah to the nausea…"

"Any vomiting?"

"I…guess…" Edward looked at Riza, who nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, then, Colonel." Doctor Jazieble shut off the otoscope and put it aside. "It seems he has a fever. It is possible that he has a minor infection, and the sudden rise in temperature is just the body's way of fighting it off."

_Yeah, I already know that, genius,_ Ed thought as he pulled his arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

"All you need is an immunization and you're free to go."

Ed froze. "Immu…nization…?"

"Yep." The doctor picked up a hypoallergenic needle that was somehow magically sitting on the counter and popped the cap off. "Just a little prick and you're done."

Ed shook his head. "No, you're not getting that thing near me."

From the corner of his eye, he could see Hawkeye standing up with a raised eyebrow. "What's wrong, Colonel? I've never seen you this intimidated by a needle."

"Because I'm not Colonel Bastard!" Ed practically screamed, and he jumped off the bed. "See! I can prove it!" Clapping his hands together, Ed placed his hands against the wall…

And nothing happened.

He stared blankly at the wall before clapping his hands together again and slammed them on the wall, and again nothing happened. He smacked his hands a few times on the whitewashed concrete. "Why isn't it working?!"

A familiar click and once more Riza had her gun pointed at Edward. "Roy, stop trying to knock down the wall and take the shot already." She was sounding strict as usual, but there was a hint of worry in her tone.

"I'm not Roy! And I won't have a needle stabbed into my body if my life depended on it!"

The two bickered for a little bit until they heard the doctor say: "Done! Now you're free to go!"

While Edward gave the doctor a blank stare, Riza regained her composure and cleared her throat. "Thank you, Doctor Jazieble."

The doctor nodded. "You are very welcome, Lieutenant Hawkeye. If his symptoms become worse, just come by and give me a visit again. Oh, and by the way," he added as Edward slipped into his shirt and followed Riza out the door, "I suggest taking the colonel to a psychiatrist. He's in desperate need of one."

While Ed gave the old man a death glare, Riza nodded. "Thank you, Sir. I will take him to one immediately." She grabbed Ed's sleeve and left the room.

Ed rubbed his arm where the shot was taken (now that he noticed it, the spot on his upper arm was feeling a little sore). Halfway down the hallway, he muttered, "I don't need no psychiatrist. I'm not crazy."

"I am not saying that you are crazy," Riza informed him. "You are just mentally distressed." She let his sleeve go, and she realized a split second later that she shouldn't have. The moment her grasp had loosened, he was flying down the hallway.

"I don't need no crazy doctor!" he called as he reached the lobby. He spotted the exit and smiled. Perhaps he could find his brother out there somewhere, and knowing himself and that giant suit of armor, they'd most likely stay in some hotel not too far from where the previous day's mission was completed. If he was in Roy's body, then Colonel Bastard is most likely in his body. He finds Alphonse, then he'll finds Roy. It's almost as easy as a simple math equation.

But, he didn't think about the fact that he was sick, and that because of the short time being in the taller and heavier, he underestimated his vault over one of the couches in the waiting room. Before he knew it, he found himself doing a flip when his foot got caught on the back of it and he landed with a dull _thud _on the plush carpet. As he pushed himself onto his elbows, the world still felt like it was spinning.

"Sir! Are you okay?" Edward jumped up to a crouching position, about to give Lieutenant Hawkeye a smart remark, but a wave of nausea overtook him and he fell onto his hands and knees.

"Agh, I think I'm going to be sick…" he muttered, and he placed a hand over his mouth as his body convulsed and the all-too-familiar taste of bile washed into his mouth.

* * *

_Yep, there we go people. Chapter two. I want to thank my friend Dragon-Tsuki for the doctor's retarded name since I didn't feel like making one up for him myself. Sorry for any mistakes and for the fact that it was rushed. I was kinda in a hurry to get it done. I would've have Roy's POV in, but I didn't feel like working on this chapter anymore, and plus I need to think of stuff that he'll do and stuff. Yepyep. Thanks for reading._

_Please leave a review and tell me what you think. :3 And don't be afraid to tell me anything that I'll need to fix or work on. It'll only help me become a better writer. -hearts-_


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